THE RATHBOURNE CHANDLERS (Paul O’Brien)

 

Now we stood in line, side by side

Just like we’d done for years

When we checked kettles and poured the wax

Now holding back the tears

And the wind that chased the papers

From the wharf up to the town

Was harsh and cold the day we watched them

Shut our factory down

 

BLOW YE WINDS OF PROGRESS

FROM THE FERRY TO THE TOWN

T’WAS AN ILL WIND THAT BLEW THE DAY

THEY SHUT OUR FACTORY DOWN

 

A good five hundred years our more

Our candles we had made

The beeswax poured by chandlers

Masters at their trade

We watched them gut production lines

Where gaffers once had frowned

And the breeze sent shivers down our back

As they shut our factory down

 

There was a time we helped to light

Each church and Sacred Heart

Now we looked on helpless

As they tore the place apart

If we should meet down Gardner Street

Or somewhere ‘round the town

We’ll remember how it was before

They shut or factory down